I Am Not a Victim

by Nancy Faulkner, Ph.D

Written by request for Feminista, 09/98.

A few years ago I was trying to console my daughter, who had just ended a disastrous adult relationship. In my futile attempts, I said, "It wasn't your fault, there was nothing more you could do, -- you're a victim." She adamantly charged back, "I am NOT a victim!"

That's an important distinction. My daughter was victimized, but she refused to be labeled or function as a "victim." She was letting me know in no uncertain terms that she makes choices and tries to take control of her life.

The term "control" has gotten some bad press from the therapeutic community. Certainly, we are not always in "control" of our lives, but we can make decisions based on what life throws our way. Sometimes the options for the decisions and what we may have suffered that leads to the decisions are much less than desirable. And yet, we can still make decisions and alter the future events, -- to hopefully be more fulfilling.

But what about children? If you think assessing life and relationships and making choices is difficult for adults, -- just imagine how it is for our nation's most vulnerable. Those tender young developing lives, who live without the same rights and life experiences as we adults have.

Children are basically subjected to the dictates of adults. Hopefully, in most cases parents, guardians, and caregivers are making choices for children that are in their best interests, -- and in the interest of protecting them. But what about those situations in which adults exploit and abuse children?

Child abuse has grown to epidemic proportions in our country, -- a country supposedly built on the foundations of equality and individual rights. And in the wake of child abuse, there remains emotional devastation that can last a lifetime.

Abused children grow up in a world of uncertainty, inconsistency, lies, violation, pain, and abandonment. Abandonment does not necessarily mean just when a child is left on their own. It also means emotional abandonment, -- leaving a frightened young child all alone to deal with the inner turmoil brought on by abuse.

And talk about loss of control! A victim is left with a sense of absolutely no control over life. That is what can contribute to disorders like Bulimia. With Bulimia, a victim may be attempting to control his or her own body. As odd as it may seem, maintaining even such distorted control in some aspect of life can give a little feeling of well being, comfort, and consolation to the victim.

Small wonder many people don't believe children when they tell of abuse, -- have a difficult time trying to understand young victims, -- or give up on them completely. Victims of abuse have learned to live in and adapt to the abusive environment; so they're own behaviors can appear superficially moody, dysfunctional, unpredictable, offensive, antagonistic, or hostile.

For example, a teen tells of abuse and asks for help. An adult steps in to help, -- then the youth resists, argues, initiates a combative emotional uproar, and ultimately withdraws (if the adult doesn't give up and withdraw first). So, what's going on?

Remember, this is a young person who has learned to not trust. The victim is wondering, -- "Why would you want to do anything for me?" "How long are you going to hang around?" And starts thinking, "Pretty soon you'll use me or go away, like everyone else has!"

This is kind of a push-pull (or approach-avoidance) situation. The young person wants and needs help, asks for it (maybe not directly, but at least in some suggested manner), -- then fights any assistance that is offered. The victim craves intimacy (not to be confused with sex) and acceptance, -- but fears it like the plague.

Once I was trying to help a little chipmunk that had accidentally slipped into my house through an open door. I love watching chipmunks from my sun room, -- as they dart in and out of hiding, to run from feeder to feeder in our back yard. They look so cute and playful, -- yet fragile and vulnerable, -- cautiously trying to avoid predators.

Well, -- there's nothing cute and playful about a chipmunk trapped in the corner of your living room. The dazed little creature ran frantically in circles, barred his teeth at me, screeched his disdain for me, and tried every possible avenue to escape my failing attempts to help.

When I finally realized that moving in too close was only frightening him more, I backed just far enough away to let him make choices. Then he was able to get his whits about him and decide what he could reasonably do, -- slow down, assess the environment, see I wasn't going to hurt him -- and find his way to freedom.

Kind of like the frightened chipmunk, victims need to know that we'll let them have some control over how our help is offered. That we'll let them question us and our motives. We'll give them time to trust, -- on their own terms. That we'll listen with an open mind. We'll give them the flexibility of being inconsistent and the latitude of having the human characteristic of imperfection. Victims need to know that we'll be there, -- we won't give up, -- and we won't abandon them!